


Guinness, Earl Grey, and Communism

by caitlinnlouwho



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: BAMF boyfriends, Bars and Pubs, Computer Hacking, M/M, Vigilante Justice, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:53:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitlinnlouwho/pseuds/caitlinnlouwho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time James Bond meets Jason Todd, he leaves the bar with a split lip and a hefty repair bill. The first time Tim Drake meets Q, he’s roped into mismanaging the assets of a small communist regime in East Africa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guinness, Earl Grey, and Communism

**Author's Note:**

> Another import from my tumblr! T, as usual. Enjoy-- if you'd like to see more just leave kudos and bookmark for updates!

The four men (two young, two older than them) find themselves directed to a nondescript pub in London, approximately four blocks away from both MI6 headquarters and a Wayne safe house. 

It’s a bit dingy, smelling of cigarettes and malt vinegar. The walls are covered in used dartboards and neon signs (both of which have seen target practice from arms other than small pins). The type of place that goes completely unnoticed to those who don’t care to look. 

Jason and Tim arrive first, the latter looking around suspiciously as the former decides to order a Guinness. 

"What?" Jason asks of Tim’s pointed glance, settling into a banquette in the corner, feet sprawled up on the cracking leather seat.

"You’re really going to drink when you have no idea who these people are?" Tim sounds more worried than annoyed, if the slight creases around his eyes are any indication. 

The bell fixed to the pub door rings before Jason can answer, and they both watch the two men that enter carefully. 

"Odd couple," Jason remarks softly. The pale younger man turns from the doorway, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. His companion, a blond, gruff-looking man, surveys the room— he doesn’t bother to hide the pistol strapped to his body. 

"On second thought," Tim starts, taking a swig of Jason’s beer. "Might as well relax the atmosphere." 

Strangely enough, it’s the younger one that approaches first, dark hair shading his eyes. He offers a hand, and Jason swats at Tim to get up, muttering something about ‘this one’s all yours, baby bird’. 

"Hello," Tim offers, taking the other’s hand and shaking it neutrally. 

"Hello," the stranger begins, careful and observant. "Am I correct in assuming that you’re Timothy?"

"Just Tim, please, but yes." 

"Call me Q." 

Jason rises from the booth as the other man approaches, grunting in acknowledgement at Q.

"Lovely to meet you as well, Jason," Q says icily, sitting down and inspecting his mobile phone.

"Who’re you?" Jason says, sizing up the blond before him. He’s not entirely sure that this man is someone he’ll like. 

"Bond. Ja-" he begins, but Q tiredly cuts him off, still staring at his phone.

"For Christ’s sake, James, do you have to introduce yourself like that everywhere you go?" 

“Q, certain protocol has to be followed. We’re on official business." 

Q scowls, sinking further into his parka. “Yes, but bloody Tesco’s is not!” 

Jason snickers a bit at that, draining the rest of the beer that Tim had left. “Trouble in paradise?” 

James rounds on him, eyes cold as steel. “Todd. I’d expect nothing less from what I’ve heard of you.”

"Or from what Q dug up?" Tim offers, casting a sideways glance at James’ partner. "Tell me, what exactly do you two do for MI6?" He knows already, of course (let it be said that he’s a fine hacker as well), but it’s just a means of friendly competition, of keeping them on their toes besides a feeble attempt at diffusing the tension in the air. 

"James is, well, James, and I’m the Quartermaster." Tim nods, and at Jason’s puzzled look, Q smirks. "In simpler terms, I make his gadgets," he finishes lazily, finger pointing at Bond.

Jason growls, low and under his breath, and a matching smirk ignites Bond’s face. 

"Puzzled, Todd?" 

"Not at all," he retorts, sitting back down and wrapping a protective arm around Tim’s waist. 

"I take it M already told you why you’re here?" James says gruffly, taking the seat next to Q. 

Jason nods, fingers tapping on the wooden table. “And Bruce already filled you in?” 

Q hums his assent. “Naturally.” 

[][][]

An hour later finds Tim and Q tucked in an upper room of the safe house, surrounded by computers and machinery.

"The things I do for WE," Tim mutters, running a hand through his hair. He already looks tired, sleeves rolled up and tie abandoned somewhere around the third file. 

"So we beat on, boats against the current," Q says under his breath, keys clacking beneath his fingers. 

Tim glances at him, a faint smile quirking at the corners of his lips. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a Fitzgerald fan.” 

"No one does," Q replies primly, a definite note of mischief lurking under his accent. "They don’t take me for a computer genius either." 

"You and me both," Tim groans, leaning back in his chair. Q smirks again, (but Tim thinks it’s a nicer smirk, more like his smile) and leans a bit closer to Tim’s station.

"One of the first things James said to me— ‘you’ve still got spots’." Q rolls his eyes. "Trying to bring my bloody age into everything." 

“‘S’okay, Jason calls me ‘baby bird’.” 

"They’ve no idea sometimes." 

"No idea at all." 

They sit for a while, methodically speeding through pages and pages of data, decrypting programs with ease. Tim is surprised when Q speaks again, his lilt filling the room. 

"I’ve a side project that you might enjoy." 

Tim raises an eyebrow. “Which would be?” 

"It’s not MI6-endorsed— more like a vigilante method of justice." He takes a sip of his tea, pulling up a dossier on Tim’s laptop. The latter barely has to scan it before he responds, eyes glinting at the mention of vigilante comeuppances.

"I’m in." 

Q grins wickedly, bespectacled eyes lighting up. “Brilliant. I could use an accomplice.” 

Tim nods his assent from behind his coffee mug. “Wonder what those other two are up to.” 

"Christ, it could be anything." 

They decide that for now, collapsing a government is more important than the whereabouts of their boyfriends.


End file.
